


Boyfriend Material

by unacaritafeliz



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fabric Store, Chris is a bi disaster, Derek is a gay disaster, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, alternative universe, but they make it work anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24823324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unacaritafeliz/pseuds/unacaritafeliz
Summary: Derek doesn't run to the storeroom, but he does power walk there very quickly. He shuts the door behind him and takes two deep breaths, trying to find a little goddamn chill. He really should be used to the power of Chris' endless positivity and angelically chiseled cheekbones by now, but he still feels his breath catch and his pulse race whenever Chris is in the store. He really needs to calm down and not make this weird; Chris is a customer, and a frequent one at that, and Derek's sales totals can't afford scare him away because of Derek's hopeless crush.[In which Derek works at a fabric store, and Chris comes in every week to buy fabric, check out the cute fabric store employee, and enthuse about his latest sewing project]
Relationships: Chris "Chowder" Chow/Derek "Nursey" Nurse
Comments: 17
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

It's the sixth time Derek meets Chris that he falls.

Quite literally, that is.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Chris asks, his large warm hands clutching at Derek's biceps to steady him. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that."

It's a quiet Wednesday at Joann's, and Derek had been absent-mindedly rearranging the fabrics, daydreaming about fuck-knows-what when Chris had materialized behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. Derek, who hadn't even realised anyone was even in the store, had startled, turned and tripped right into Chris' muscular arms, like the human disaster he always is.  
  
"It's chill," says Derek, even though it's not really chill. He's so pathetic - even the sight of a cute boy causes him to completely fall apart. He takes a step back, immediately misses the warmth of Chris' hands, and pushes his glasses up his nose, stepping into his customer-service persona. "Can I help you with something?"

Chris stares at Derek for a moment, mouth propped open, before his signature sunshine smile returns to his face and Derek's signature butterflies return to his stomach.

"Oh yeah!" says Chris "I, uh, I was wondering if you have any NHL fabric in stock? I saw it on your website, but I can't seem to find it."

Derek can thankfully avert his eyes from Chris while he thinks about it. They don't usually put the NHL fabric out until closer to the start of the season, but he vaguely remembers seeing the shipment of new season fabric come in a few weeks ago.

"I think there's some in the back," Derek says. His eyes drop down to Chris (undeniably toned) chest, covered, as usual, by a teal Shark's jersey, and feels his face heat up again. "But we never get the West Coast teams. I'm sorry."

"Oh," says Chris. His smile dims, and that's not okay with Derek at all.

"I can order some in for you?" Derek rushes to offer.

"Oh yeah, that'd be great," says Chris, with a smile that immediately puts everything right again. "But I might as well grab something while I'm here so I have something to work on while I wait. Maybe some Falconer's fabric, if you've got any?"

Derek finds it a little hard to believe Chris has nothing to work on. This is the sixth time Chris has been in the store in as many weeks, and he always leaves the store with an armful of new fabric, each for an increasingly impossible project he's decided to undertake. If he's already finished his last project (reupholstering the disgusting couch in his frat, apparently) then Derek's not really sure when Chris finds time to study. Or... like... breathe.

But if Chris wants more fabric, then Derek's definitely not going to deny him.

"I'll check the storeroom," Derek says. "Give me a minute."

"Sure!" Chris says, with a smile that looks like it could make flowers grow. "Thanks!"

Derek doesn't run to the storeroom, but he does power walk there very quickly. He shuts the door behind him and takes two deep breaths, trying to find a little goddamn chill. He really should be used to the power of Chris' endless positivity and angelically chiseled cheekbones by now, but he still feels his breath catch and his pulse race whenever Chris is in the store. He really needs to calm down and not make this weird; Chris is a customer, and a frequent one at that, and Derek's sales totals can't afford scare him away because of Derek's hopeless crush.

Taking a deep breath, Derek walks over and begins sifting through the fabric in the back room. They have exactly three bolts of Falconers fabric, and Derek lifts them into his arms as he heads back into the store to face Chris again.

Chris is standing in front of the fabric cutting area, thick eyebrows furrowed together as he texts, quickly and intensely, on his phone. Derek spares a millisecond to wonder who Chris might be texting (a significant other perhaps?) before remembering it's none of his business and putting the fabrics down on the desk in front instead.

"Here," says Derek, unnecessarily. "We have cotton and flannel."

"Oooooh!" Chris says, his warm brown eyes lighting up with excitement as Derek is once again struck by how deeply Chris loves fabric. He slides his phone into his back pocket and reaches out to rub his hands over the flannel first, and then over the prettier of the two cotton bolts. "I'll take this one, please, Derek. The flannel will be too warm."

Derek feels his face warm at the sound of his name. It's stupid, because he knows Chris probably just read his name off his name tag, most likely didn't actually remember it, definitely doesn't think about the dumb fabric store employee the way Derek thinks about Chris, but Derek's a verified gay disaster, so he's going to have feelings about it anyway.

"Alright," Derek says, voice a little tight, as he starts rolling out the fabric onto the desk, feeling his shirt sleeves ride up against his biceps. "How much do you need?"

Chris doesn't answer, and, when Derek looks up, he is zoned out, staring at something seemingly just below Derek's shoulders. Derek lifts his arm to wave and Chris blinks, bringing his eyes back up to Derek's face.

"Sorry," he says, looking alarmed and a little sheepish. "What was the question?"

Derek can't help but grin, hopelessly endeared by the look on Chris' face. "How much fabric did you want?"

"Oh!" says Chris. "Uh... four yards should be good."

Derek nods and starts measuring the fabric out. He takes a deep, but hopefully not obvious, breath before asking the ridiculous, company-mandated, question that totally destroyed his poor gay heart the first time Chris came into the store.

"So, what are you making with this?"

"Pyjamas!" Chris says, voice just as bright and enthusiastic as when he'd told Derek about his first project (personalised insulated lunch bags for his housemates, crafted from the most god-awful patterns Chris could find in the remnants bin). "For my friend, Jack."

Derek hums as he starts cutting the fabric. He kind of wants to ask who Jack is, but knows he shouldn't, and goes for a chirp instead. "Does he like the Falcs as much as you like the Sharks?"

Chris laughs. "Gosh, I hope so," he says. "Considering he's actually on the team."

Derek nods as he finishes cutting the fabric, ensuring that the cut finishes neatly. Then, Chris' words sink in and he snaps his head up to look at Chris.

"Did you say Jack?" Derek asks. Chris nods. "As in Jack Zimmermann?"

"Yeah!" Chris says, with a bright smile. "Do you know him?"

"Dude, of course!" says Derek, completely aware of how much of a fanboy he must look like but unable to bring himself to care. "Jack Zimmermann is a fucking legend. I can't believe you're friends with him!"

"Sometimes I can't either!" says Chris, with a laugh. "My parents are hockey fans so I grew up practically idolising Bad Bob and now I'm friends with his son! And Jack's really great, honestly. He's like an older brother to me, I love him a so much!"

Derek smiles, helplessly charmed by Chris' enthusiasm as always. He picks up the pricing gun, fiddling with the controls to get it started. "How do you know him?" Derek asks.

"Oh, he was my captain, actually," says Chris. "I'm on the Samwell hockey team."

Derek stops, looking up from the gun and frowning at Chris. He's only played the Samwell team a handful of times, but he's sure he'd remember if a guy like Chris was on the team. Granted, he hasn't seen many of them without helmets and gear, but surely Chris' sunshine personality would be obvious without the gear. He thinks, mentally running through all the people he can remember, trying to find a name or face that could...

"Oh my god, you're the goalie," says Derek, cheeks flushing as the memory comes flooding back to him. The Samwell goalie is a legend to the Harvard team, both because he's one of the toughest goalies to face and because he never fails to cuss someone out every time they play.

"Yeah!" says Chris. Then he frowns, tilting his head cutely as he considers Derek. "How do you know that?"

"I'm on the Harvard team," Derek admits. "You, uh, you told me to 'get the fuck out of your net' the last time we played."

"Oh my god!" Chris says, hands flying to cover his rapidly reddening cheeks. "You're the Harvard D-man that checked Holster off his feet last year, aren't you?"

Derek's not exactly sure who Holster is, but he does remember body slamming into a massive wall of tall, white hockey player during a Samwell game last year.

"Uh, yeah," Derek says. "I think so."

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, Derek," says Chris. He drops his hands from his face, revealing severely pinked cheeks. Somehow Chris manages to make even that look endearing. "I sometimes get a bit aggressive during games. I don't know what comes over me, I'm not like that usually I swear."

And, the thing is, Derek knows that. He might not know Chris very well, but he's seen nothing but sunshine in Chris' face and voice every time he's been in the store. Still, it's an interesting revelation about Chris, it makes him into something so much more real and complex than the optimistic seamster that Derek's seen these past few weeks. It makes Derek's desire to know everything he can about Chris even stronger. 

And besides, Chris swearing at him on the ice was... kind of hot.

"Don't worry about it," says Derek, hoping Chris can't tell how flustered he is. "Let me ring you up for this and the Sharks fabric. How much of that did you want?"

"Hmmm, maybe six yards?" Chris says. "I feel bad making you guys order it in, might as well get some excess."

Derek nods, pressing his glasses further up his nose as he frowns at the computer. "What are you going to make with it?" he asks.

"I don't know!" Chris admits. "Maybe some pyjamas for me, or something for my little sister back home or maybe something for my room? Like a new pillowcase or curtains! Actually that's a good idea, the curtains Jack left me are pretty awful."

Derek laughs, glancing up at Chris over the top of his glasses. "Your housemates and landlord would be chill with you putting up Sharks curtains?" he asks.

"The hockey team owns the Haus," says Chris, with a shrug. "And I doubt they could stop me."

Chris winks, eyes sparkling with mirth and mischief. Derek doesn't swoon at the sight, but it's a damn near thing.

"So, six yards of Shark's fabric, in the cotton," Derek says, quickly bringing his gaze back to the screen. "There's free delivery to the store, or an eight dollar fee to have it sent to you at Samwell."

"The store is fine," says Chris. "I was going to come in and see you next week anyway."

Derek is often accused of being a dramatic gay but he swears to god his heart actually stops at the sight.

Logically, Derek knows that it's probably only seconds that pass while they stare at each other, Chris pink-cheeked and wide eyed and Derek flushed hot, with his heartbeat thundering through the store like a bass drum, both clearly trying to process what Chris said and what it means, but it feels like a lifetime in his mind. Chris probably only meant that he was planning to come in for more fabric next week, but Derek's dumb traitorous and gay as fuck brain can't help but read into things that are not there.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, another customer walks through the door, and the chime of the doorbell jolts them both back into reality sooner than Derek would've liked.

"Okay," says Derek, looking back at the screen. "That's $40 for the Falcs fabric and another $60 for the Sharks, to be delivered here sometime next week. If you give me your rewards card, we'll can grab your details for the order and will call you when it's ready."

"Sure," says Chris. He pulls his wallet out and hands over his loyalty card and his credit card.

Derek takes them with trembling hands, scans the loyalty card, swipes the credit card and hands them back to Chris. He keeps his eyes firmly on the fabric as he folds it and bags it, holding the bag out to Chris with extended arms.

"Here you go," he says. "Hope you have a great day."

Chris frowns for a moment, looking at Derek as if he wants to say something else but sighs and takes the bag from Derek's hand.

"Thanks, Derek," he says, with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I hope you have a good day too."

And with one last smile, Chris turns and leaves the store, the doorbell's happy jangle a stark contrast to the way that Derek feels watching him leave. Resigning himself to wait until the next week for any further developments with Chris, Derek sighs and steps out from behind the counter to go and greet the only other customer in the store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an idea for a second chapter where they get together. Might fuck around and write it, might be a useless bitch, who really knows?
> 
> Also massive thanks to my girl Anne who doesn't even go to this fandom but helped me beta this chapter because she's the best friend I could ever ask for.


	2. Chapter 2

The fifteenth time Derek meets Chris is at the Samwell Men’s Hockey frat.

Or it’s supposed to be, at least. Chris had found him outside the visitors locker room after their game that afternoon, complimented his hockey, and invited him and his friends to the victory party at the hockey house that evening. But Derek’s been here for nearly twenty minutes and there’s been no sign of Chris anywhere in the packed frat house, although the fabric of the window curtains, the team manager’s duck-print skirt, and the sofa Derek’s currently sitting on all seem very familiar.

Part of him still can’t believe that Chris actually reupholstered the sofa, even with the evidence right in front of him. It's a sad realisation - he'd actually thought Chris might be coming to the store to see him, but it looks like he really does use the fabric as he buys.

Damn. Derek has no idea where Chris finds the time.

“Hey Derek!” calls a familiar voice as Chris drops into the seat next to him. “You been here long?”

“Not long!” Derek replies, his voice loud over the music. “I couldn’t find you, so I thought I’d just wait somewhere obvious.”

“Rans and Holtzy made me do a Kegstand for my shutout,” Chris explains, and Derek suddenly wishes he had gone to find Chris. Fighting his way through this crowd of people would’ve been worth it just to see Chris upside down on top of a keg. His face flushes at the thought, and he's thankful it won't be visible in this lighting. “Oh my god, you don’t have a drink! Come on.”

Derek’s face somehow gets even warmer as Chris grabs him by the wrist and pulls him from the couch. He doesn’t let go as he leads Derek through the party-goers in the living room and through a door marked **‘SMH MEMBERS ONLY’** into the kitchen, shutting the door on the party behind him. The kitchen is empty, dark and quiet, but when Chris flicks the lights on Derek spots a line of homemade lunch bags made from ugly mismatched fabrics and has to suppress a smile. It was what Chris had been wanting to make the first time Derek had met him at the store.

“We keep all the good drinks in here,” Chris explains, pulling the fridge door open. “What do you want? We have beer, cider, I think Dex made some non-alcoholic punch...”

“Uh, whatever you’re having is fine,” Derek says.

Chris pulls out two bottles of beer and pops them open, handing one over to Derek and taking a seat at the kitchen counter, seemingly not wanting to go back into the main party just yet. Derek sits down too, taking a sip and looking around the kitchen awkwardly.

It shouldn’t be this awkward. He’s seen Chris every other week for the entire academic semester so far, and they’ve talked about everything from their majors to their hobbies to their friends and family. They’re undeniably friends, or something close to it at least. But there’s still something different about talking to your kind, hot, enthusiastic crush at the fabric store you work in, and trying to talk to him in the quiet of his own kitchen, and Derek’s not really sure what he’s supposed to say.

Luckily, Chris has no such worries.

“So what happened to the friends you were bringing with you?” he asks. “Denice and Tony, right? Did they decide not to come?”

Maybe Derek’s pathetic, but he can’t help but be endeared at the fact that Chris remembered his friends’ names after only hearing them once. He definitely can’t remember any of the names Chris has told him. “They’re here, somewhere,” Derek says, flapping his hand around uselessly to indicate. “They went outside with one of your teammates. Uh, fluffy hair and an undercut? Sorry, I don’t remember his name.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Of course, they did,” he says. “You didn’t want to go with them?”

Derek shakes his head. “I was waiting for you.”

Chris smiles his usual big smile, the one that looks like it could make flowers grow and makes Derek want to turn the whole store upside down looking for the exact fabric Chris wants. Derek’s seen it plenty of times before, of course, but he never gets tired of the sight. Chris is gorgeous without trying, and he’s smart and kind and funny and Derek just can’t get enough of him.

“I’m glad you agreed to come over, Derek,” says Chris, earnestly. “Not that I don’t enjoy our little chats at Joann’s, but it’s nice to spend time with you outside the store, when you’re not obligated to be nice to me.”

“It’s never an obligation,” Derek says, honestly. His face feels a little warm. “But yes, it is nice to spend time with you in an environment when you are neither asking me for fabric or telling me to get the fuck out of your net.”

Chris turns red and drops his head into his hands. “Don’t tell me I said that to you today,” he whines.

“Not today, no,” Derek says, smiling. Chris peeks at him through his fingers, adorably. “I’m just not going to let you forget the one time you did.”

Chris laughs, and pushes his hands back through his hair. Derek’s breath catches at the sight. “That’s fair, I guess,” Chris concedes. “As long as I’m allowed to remind you of the time I called the store and you answered with ‘Hello, Nurse publishing’.”

“I told you that was a force of habit,” Derek mumbles. His face feels like it’s on fire, but he can’t help but keep smiling at Chris anyway. Chris’ smile is so infectious. “But I suppose that’s only fair. Besides it didn’t stop you from coming back to the store, so it can’t have been that embarrassing.”

“It would take a lot more than that to make me stop visiting, Derek,” Chris says. He leans forward on his arms, a look on his face that implies he’s talking about more than just visiting the store.

Derek leans forward too. “Because you constantly need to buy fabric for all your various fabric needs?” he asks, quietly, hopefully.

“Sure,” says Chris, and his eyes legitimately drop down to Derek’s mouth for the tiniest of moments before settling back on his eyes. “Something like that.”

There's tension in the air that can't just be in Derek's head. He slowly leans forward, giving Chris all the time in the world to pull away… 

The kitchen door opens with a bang, and Derek falls back into his seat.

“Oh, sorry, brahs,” says the newcomer, a tall white guy with glasses. He’s one of the Samwell captains, if Derek remembers correctly. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

“It’s okay, Holtzy,” says Chris, quietly. He shoots Derek an apologetic look across the table.

The guy, Holtzy apparently, makes his way over to the fridge and pulls two beers out. He turns around to get the bottle opener from the table and his eyes fall on Derek. “Oh, you’re new,” he says. “I’m Holster.”

“Derek.”

“Oh, shit, from the fabric store?” Holster asks. Derek nods, sneaking a look at Chris who has gone bright red. “It’s nice to finally meet you, dude! Chowder has told us so much about you.”

It’s kind of nice, to know that Chris has mentioned him to his teammates, even if Chris looks like he wants to murder the teammate in question right now. It hopefully means that Derek’s not the only one who’s been pining like an idiot for months.

“Holster, don’t you have a game of flip cup to lose somewhere?” Chris mutters.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, Chowder,” Holster says, flinging his arm around Chris’ shoulders. “I bet he's told his teammates about you too. Haven't you, Derek?”

Derek has no idea what answer Chris will prefer, but figures he might as well be honest. “I may have mentioned him,” he says, eyes trained on Chris, who flushes even darker.

Holster laughs, slapping his hand on Derek’s back. “Well, have fun, you two,” he says. “Don’t do anything Jack wouldn’t do.”

Chris breaks eye contact to watch Holster leave, but Derek keeps looking at Chris, observing the way his blush makes the freckles on his nose stand out.

“I’m sorry about Holster,” Chris says. “He’s obnoxious.”

“I liked him,” Derek says, and Chris turns back to look at him, one of his busy eyebrows raised in question. “He gave me some very interesting information.”

Chris laughs, awkwardly. "Whatever," he says. "Unfortunately, he'll probably try to bring Rans and Bitty in here to see you too, so we better get going. What do you wanna do? Dancing? Flip cup?"

Derek thinks about it. While dancing in the packed living room with Chris is definitely appealing, he can't help but feel like they're on the precipice of something, and he wants to chase it before it disappears.

"Kind of want to keep talking," he says, fidgeting with his beer bottle. "Maybe we could go outside?"

Chris' eyes light up. Derek's not exactly sure what caused it, but he wants to do it again.

"Oh, it'll be kinda busy outside but uh, maybe we, uh…" Chris exhales, tries again. "My room window opens up to the roof. We can go up there if you're comfortable. It's okay if you don't want to, of course, I don't want you to feel pressured or..."

"The roof is chill," says Derek, stopping Chris' ramblings with a hand on top of his. "As long as you promise I won't fall off."

Chris smiles. "I've got you," he says. “Goalie reflexes.”

Chris pulls away from Derek to grab two beers from the fridge and Derek can't help but mourn the loss of his touch. Chris leads them out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the first floor. There’s four doors in the hallway, but Derek can already tell which one is Chris’, since it has a giant Sharks’s poster hanging on it.

Chris pushes the beer into his hands so he can unlock the door. "Sorry, ignore the mess," he says, pushing the door open with his hip.

Derek tries not to look at Chris’s stuff as he walks through the room, but his eye can't help but be drawn around, even in the dark. The first thing he sees is the large bed, with the official Shark’s bedspread and hand-sewn bi pride pillow cases. The second thing he notices is the curtains, not the Shark’s print Chris said they'd be, not even made in a fabric Derek remembers him buying. And the third thing he sees is the large plastic tub in the corner of the room, clearly full to the brim. Derek recognises every fabric visible through the clear plastic.

Derek stops in the middle of the room. Chris had always said that he comes in so often because he never had any fabric left. And sure, he could just be extremely picky about what fabric to use for certain projects, but he clearly doesn’t need to dip into the store’s remnant bin as often as he does. And isn’t it weird that Chris has so much fabric at his frat house in Massachusetts, the one he only moved into this semester, when he lives across the country and only needs as much as he’s planning to sew while at uni.

Either Chris had a serious fabric buying problem or he's coming to the store for something other than the fabric. Derek knows which option he’d prefer.

"Derek," Chris says, and Derek looks over at him. He’s standing next to the open window, turning to look at the space Derek was just looking at. "What… ?"

It's still dark in the room, but Derek can see the exact moment when Chris notices the fabric and it clicks into place.

"Oh!" says Chris. "I just really like having a lot of spare fabric, you know? I like to have a choice when I want to sew something, and you know that Joann’s always has such good deals..."

A grin spreads across Derek’s face. Chris is rambling, and protesting far too much for Derek to actually believe a single word is coming out of his mouth. 

"Chris," Derek interrupts, and Chris' mouth snaps shut. "You didn't come to Joann's every other week just for the fabric, did you?"

Chris opens his mouth and closes it with a sigh. He shakes his head. “Not just for the fabric, no,” Chris admits, quietly. “I… Fuck. I wish you didn’t find out like this. I'm so sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, Derek."

Derek walks over and takes Chris' hand in his. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable," he says, as he links their fingers together. "I was kind of hoping that was the case, but when I saw your sofa I wasn't sure anymore."

Chris laughs. "Well Bitty actually wouldn’t let me sleep on the couch for my pregame nap unless I reupholstered it,” he explains, squeezing Derek’s hand. “So I kind of had to. It’s kind of why I haven’t used the other fabric yet.”

“And yet you kept coming to Joann’s,” Derek says.

Chris smiles. “And yet I kept coming to Joann’s.”

Derek smiles back. “Chris,” he says. “Can I kiss you?”

Chris answers by closing the gap himself, one hand on Derek’s jaw to hold him in place, the other still tangled with Derek’s. Chris kisses with the same enthusiasm he talks about sewing projects with, the same intensity he plays hockey with. His lips are warm like the Californian sun, and Derek pulls him closer with a hand around his back, unable to get enough.

Eventually, Derek has to break the kiss to catch his breath, but he keeps his forehead pressed against Chris, unwilling to go too far from him. Derek can’t believe how well this night has turned out. He’d been hoping something might happen when Chris had invited him to the party, but he’s still so overwhelmed by the fact this actually happened, that the cute customer he’s been crushing on for months actually likes him too.

“So,” says Derek, quietly. His eyes are still closed. “Since you’ve clearly got enough fabric here to last a while, why don’t you skip the trip to Joann’s next time you come up to Boston? Maybe we could get dinner together instead?”

“Sure,” Chris says, and Derek can hear the smile in his voice. “I’d really like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd apologise for how long this took to finish, but we all know I'm lucky I finished it at all. This isn't actually what I had planned for chapter two but I think it ended up being cute enough. I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment if you did! 
> 
> If you want some more NurseShark content may I recommend my [ McCafé AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21693541) or my friend Tori's [Nursey/Chowder/Ransom fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884585)! Tori beta read chapter two for me, and her fic is fantastic!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by [this tweet from @katiehahnbooks](https://twitter.com/katiehahnbooks/status/1263921852885479425?s=20). I feel bad because the tweet is about lesbians and I made it about boys but in my defense... it is the most NurseShark concept I've ever heard (after the McCafe AU, of course).


End file.
